


Compared To You

by MapleLantern



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), The Mummy (1999)
Genre: ...accidental necromancy?, Alternate Universe, M/M, adventures and camels, illicit book reading?, the sun hates hux
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-07-12
Packaged: 2018-11-05 22:36:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11023014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MapleLantern/pseuds/MapleLantern
Summary: The Mummy AU!Rescue the angry redhead, kill the dead guy, save the world?





	1. Chapter 1

Re-shelving returned books was one of the most mindless tasks in the museum library, only exacerbated by the annoyance of finding books that had been left carelessly in the wrong place by visitors upon concluding their reading. Usually Hux avoided it, preferring to delegate the task to one of his assistants, but today he was too angry to effectively finish anything more complicated.

Apparently, nearly a year spent overseas in Cairo working in the city museum did not count as active field experience ‒ a point made all the worse by the fact that Hux agreed with it. His tentative hope of escaping back to England on the grounds of scholarship would have to be pushed back another year. 

As for field experience, even if he managed to secure some it wasn’t going to be pleasant. As much as he loved his area of interest, Hux would have preferred to study it from somewhere with a little less blistering heat and a little more rain. As fascinating as the history was, Egypt itself did not really agree with him ‒ he tended to burn a bright red after barely half an hour outside, and the temperatures made him irritable enough to want to punch someone on a fairly frequent basis. 

But, on the other hand the discomfort of any expedition out to a proper dig-site would be well worth it to put all his secondary reading into perspective, let alone if he was ever lucky enough to be one of the first to go out to a new dig-site… Although how he was supposed to secure field experience when the most the Museum Director had deigned to trust him with was the library, he had no idea. 

So here he was, clinging to a ladder in the Egyptology section with his right shoulder aching from the weight of several hardback editions ‒ precariously balanced to keep both his hands free ‒ and internally seething… Which was probably why he tried to reach over from the ‘S’ shelf to the ‘T’ shelf behind him to put back a misplaced copy of Tuthmosis, rather than climbing down and moving the ladder like a sensible person. 

Hux yelped as the ladder tipped. Dropping the book, he tried to throw his weight back foward to correct it, only to end up balanced with the ladder standing almost impossibly vertical.

“Fuck, fuck…!”

He tried to fall sideways, he really did, hitting the shelf and hastily rolling off it, more out of concern for the ‘S’ shelf books he had landed on, rather than self-preservation as the ‘T’ shelves behind him joined the literary avalanche‒ Wait what?

“Oh, god…”

Nevermind the museum director, _Hux_ wouldn’t have ever allowed Hux near a delicate dig-site after this.

\--

“You said ‘a bit of a mess’. You didn’t say ‘biblical catastrophe’.” Phasma felt the need to point out as she took in the destruction of the library.

“Yes, thank you.” 

“Maybe they can use you as another exhibit once the director is done with you?”

“Phasma, please.” Hux groaned, peeking out from between his fingers to watch her gingerly trying to shift one of the fallen shelves, only to give up as she realised how they were lying across one another. 

“Use your remains to scare new recruits?”

“Phasma. I’m really not in the mood.” Hux gestured to the room in general. Book spines were being bent and crushed under the combined weight of the fallen shelves, and there were more pages on the floor than he would be able to reasonably match to their proper bindings. “This is going to take hours, and after this morning’s post it looks like I’ll have to renew my lease after all.” 

“No luck with the scholarship?”

He put his face back in his hands, which was enough of an answer for Phasma. This definitely ranked as one of his worst days in Cairo so far. Phasma sat beside him and patted his shoulder. 

“I might be able to cheer you up?”

“I’m not going drinking at this time of day.”

She snorted. “No. But I got hold of this last night, want to take a look?” 

‘This’ turned out to be a small hexagonal box, which she offered to him. It was about the size of a tennis ball and surprisingly light when he took it; it even looked like it might- They both blinked as the six top segments flipped open after some gentle prodding, revealing a folded piece of yellowed paper. 

“Have I found something?” Phasma asked skeptically; in the few months that she’d been bringing him items confiscated from her garrison, most of the things she’d brought to him had turned out to be fake. 

But as Hux carefully unfolded the piece, which he could now clearly see was vellum rather than paper, the faded hieroglyphs almost leapt out at him. 

“Yes,” He said after a moment. “I believe you have.”


	2. Chapter 2

That night Hux barely slept at all, which wasn’t a rare occurrence in itself, but this time his insomnia was fuelled by excitement rather than the heat. 

After he had told her what the map seemed to be and recounted the legend, Phasma had promised to try and find the man she had acquired the map box from, and bring him to Hux for questioning. Although he suspected that her enthusiasm was more to do with the fact that he had said the word ‘treasure’ rather any archaeological interest ‒ something he couldn’t entirely blame her for. She had seemed confident she could find the man in question, and if he could tell them where he had come by the map it would surely help them pin down some more details. And after that...

Hamunaptra.

He had tried not to get his hopes up, but failed miserably. What if they actually found it? What if it was as much of an archaeological treasure trove as the legend suggested? It would be a bigger discovery than the excavation by Howard Carter several years ago even, and it would _definitely_ count as field experience.

He did not expect Phasma, after turning up at his house a few days later just as he was feeding Millicent her breakfast, to walk him to the city jail. 

“You didn't tell me you stole it.” Hux hissed, trying to keep himself underneath the patch of shade provided by the parasol he had insisted Phasma carry, despite it being more for his benefit.

“You didn’t ask.” She replied calmly, lowering the parasol a little to step through the wooden gate before folding it. “And I won it.” 

“From a drunk at the local casbah!” 

“You’re often a drunk at the local casbah.”

Hux pretended not to hear her. “A lie by omission is still a lie.” 

Phasma just shrugged at him, as if to say that it wasn’t the first time and wouldn’t be the last. She could easily drink most of the stationed militia under any table they cared to provide. Whoever she had… _acquired_ the box from had probably been too drunk to realise that he had, in fact, lost whatever game they had been playing -if he had even been aware he was playing in the first place. Hux scowled before following her, glaring at the lackey who re-bolted the gate behind them.

As they crossed the courtyard, trying to breath through their mouths, Phasma asked the warden why the man they were here to see was in prison. The answer, ‘looking for too much of a good time’, did not fill Hux with confidence It hadn’t even occurred to him that they would be hear to speak to a common criminal. The fact that the man had to be dragged out of the cellblock by no less than four struggling guards ‒ only stilling his fists after they had thrown him bodily against the bars ‒ was not especially encouraging either. 

He shook his head like a dog in a daze before turning a furious look on the pair in front of him. Hux and Phasma, in unison, took a few steps back. 

“This is the man you-”

Phasma nods. “Yes.”

“You didn’t say he was a criminal!” Hux hissed at her. 

“Not when I left him.”

“Phasma-”

“Hey!”

They both paused before the squabble could take proper flight, turning to the man who had settled down onto his knees beyond the bars which separated them. 

“What d’you want, huh?” He barked once he had their attention, only to receive a blow to the shoulder from one over-vigilant guard which Hux though rather unnecessary. To his credit he didn’t make a noise when it landed, just turned to level a glare over the abused shoulder. 

“We-” Hux paused and then crouched down on his heels to be more at eye level with the prisoner, mouth set in a firm line. “- _found_ your… puzzle box. And we’re here to ask you about it.”

There was another pause as the man considered the box, looking for all the world as if he regretted seeing it again, after Hux had fished out from his pocket. 

Up close, Hux could see that his face was bruised, although most of it was hidden by the tangle of dark hair which reached almost past his shoulders. He looked likely to be somewhere between Phasma and Hux’s height when he stood. 

“No.”

Hux frowned. “No…?”

“No.” The prisoner shook his head slightly. “Puzzle box... You came to ask about fucking Hamunaptra.”

It was probably surprise at his directness which prompted a rather redundant ‘how did you know that’ from Hux’s mouth. He himself had opened the box fairly easily in under two minutes, and it wouldn’t have taken a genius to find someone to translate the writings if needed.

The prisoner made a mock shocked face and wiggled his fingers. “Because that’s where I was when I found it, Red. I was there.”

“Hux.” 

“What?”

“My name is Hux.” Hux growled, and immediately saw it had been a mistake when the other man grinned. 

“Ben.”

“How do we know that isn’t bullshit?” Phasma interrupted, crouching beside Hux before the name game could go any further. 

Ben gave her a suspicious look. “...do I know you, lady?” 

It was Phasma’s turned to smirk. “No.” 

Ben’s dark eyes narrowed momentarily before they widened in recognition just as quickly. “You’re the bitch from the bar!”

That earned him another blow from the guards, this time to his back, and once again he didn’t shout but merely glared. 

“You were actually there?” Hux said quickly, flapping a hand at Phasma for her to step back again. He wasn’t going to waste his time by letting them argue about some stupid drunken poker game, not when he’d already feigned illness to skip work this morning. 

Ben squinted at him. 

“I just insulted your friend.”

“She probably deserved it.”

That earned him another grin, and the other man dropped his hands from where he’d grabbed the bars as he shouted at Phasma.

“Yeah, I was there.”

“You swear?”

“Every damn day.”

“No, I mean-” Hux was close to swearing with frustration himself. 

“Yeah, I know what you mean, Red. City of the dead, lost treasure?” He sounded bored as he said the words, resigned almost. It made Hux think of a petulant child. 

“How did you get there?” He pressed.

Ben looked sideways at one of the guards and dropped his voice low enough that Hux had to lean in closer to hear him. He smelled like a pigsty. “You wanna know?”

“Yes!”

“You really wanna know?”

Hux scowled in response and Ben made a beckoning motion with his right hand, still shackled but with a fair bit of space to move. 

“Yeah? C’mere…”

Hux tilted his hat to the side, blocking the still hovered warden from view as he shuffled closer to Ben, and promptly got the fright of his life when his chin was grabbed in dirty fingers and lips that still tasted of stale whiskey were smashed onto his. He was shoved back again before he had the presence of mind to recoil, only to find Ben’s furious dark eyes inches from his own. 

“Then get me the fuck out of here!” He hissed, before being dragged back up by his guards in a frantic struggle of fists.

Momentarily stunned, Hux dragged his sleeve across his lips and spat before leaping up himself. He heard Phasma chuckle and felt his own fury flare in his gut, but ignored it, and her, for the moment. 

Breathing heavily through his nose for the first time in the last fifteen minutes, which turned out to be a sore mistake, he turned to the warden. 

“Where are you taking him?”

The warden shruged, flicking something off of his white jacket. “Gallows.”

_“What?!”_

\--

By the time they reached the middle courtyard, Ben was already being shoved up onto the gibbet platform. Hux began doing frantic calculations in his head.

“Three hundred!” He forced out, and Phasma gave him a look as if he’d lost his mind; quite possibly he had. 

That he was scraping the bottom of his meticulously saved monthly income was bad enough, but what he was saying was also very illegal, although Hux doubted the warden would care. He didn’t have time to wonder if Phasma objected on moral grounds or if she was just surprised to hear it coming from him ‒ probably the latter. 

Down on the scaffold, the executioner was leaning in to listen to something Ben was saying ‒ his last words perhaps ‒ whilst looping the rope around his neck. After a moment he turned to shout something up at the warden in Arabic. 

“Of course you don’t let him go!” The man shouted back in English, prompting Hux to hiss at him:

“Five hundred!”

That got his attention, as Hux knew it eventually would; the man had just been trying to push him high enough. He could tell that the warden was doing some similar, albeit slower, mental arithmetic to that which Hux had just been doing himself.

A glance down at the scaffold showed that Ben’s eyes were fixed on him; not a trace of the cocksure attitude Hux had seen just moments before, now they were filled with something close to pleading. It made Hux’s stomach drop. 

“Five hundred now, plus another five once we return.” 

Phasma swore quietly behind him, but the warden smirked. 

“Deal.”

\------------

“So, which bank are we robbing?” Phasma asked as soon as they stepped out of the gate to the prison. 

“You’re not helping.” 

“Excuse me, who just bribed a prison warden with money he doesn't have? The kiss can’t have been that good.”

Hux just quickened his stride and tried to ignore her chuckling as they made their way back home. 

 

\----------

\---


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

The number of bags they were carrying had negated the carrying of the parasol. As such Hux had donned his hat and mentally prepared himself for the sun beaten trip to the dock, accepting that he would be irritable until they boarded and he could escape to the cool confines of the shaded deck. 

Phasma, unfairly unaffected by the sun despite her own pale complexion, declared the boat moored at the third dock theirs. 

“Do you really think he’s going to show up?” Hux groused, hiked his smaller bag up to secure it more firmly under his arm. 

“Yes,” Phasma replied, her mouth setting into an annoyed frown. “Undoubtedly, knowing my luck... He may be a cowboy but I know the breed. His word is his word.”

Hux made a face, irritated by this positive spin on Ben’s character. “Well, personally I think he’s filthy, rude, a complete scoundrel.” And just for Phasma’s benefit he added: “I don’t like him at all.”

“Anyone I know?”

Hux breathed in slowly through his nose before turning-

-and was shocked. 

“Oh…”

Ben had shaved. And had his hair cut. The dark locks had been trimmed to his neck, and were casually brushed back across his forehead. His clothes were now fresh - a crisp shirt overlaid with an unsubtle gun holster and tan pants - and there was only the clean smell of soap. 

Something in Hux’s gut twinged. 

Thankfully, Phasma recovered before he did.

“Nice to see you, Solo.” She punched his shoulder. 

Ben gave her a guarded look, slipping his hands into his pockets in what he probably thought was a casual gesture. 

She laughed. “Relax. It’s broad daylight.”

Ben opened his mouth, but before he could speak Hux stepped in. 

“Solo-”

“Ben.”

“Ben.” Hux scowled as he said it. “Can you assure me that this is not some sort of… con, because if it is? I’m warning you-”

Ben interrupted him. “You’re warning me?”

“I-”

“Listen, Red.” Ben learned forward, a little too close for Hux’s liking but he refused to back up. “My whole damn garrison believed in that shit so much, that without orders they marched halfway across Libya and into Egypt to find it. And when we got there?” He winces slightly, but does not break Hux’s gaze. “All we found? Was sand, and blood.”

Hux, a little stunned, was too slow to react before Ben straightened and took his bag, stomping up the gangplank without another word. If asked, he was sure he could recite that little speech word for word, but only because he had been almost solely focussed on the movement of Ben’s mouth. 

“Yes, you’re right.” Phasma said after a moment. 

“What?”

She even had the gall to wink at him over her shoulder as she followed Ben up the plank. “Nothing there to like at all.”

Hux just settled for a scowl. 

\------------------  
\-----

By the time it was finally evening, Hux’s room was so stuffy he was beginning to feel as dizzy as if he had been up on the deck in the sun anyway. Sliding the small window open helped a little, but it didn’t help much despite the river breeze. 

He forced himself to finish one more chapter of his book before giving up and going in search of Phasma. Checking his watch he decided that the best bet was, as usual, the bar. He briefly considered his jacket and then decided his waistcoat was enough, it was the bar not a formal dinner, and headed out in search.

The bar was at the far end of the boat, adjacent to the dining room. Hux stood for a few moments enjoying the cool breeze on his overheated face, and entered the room just in time to witness a loud crash.

Ben was standing in the middle of the room, fists clenched and facing off against the man Hux had seen on the gangplank when they boarded, a puddle of broken glass and liquor spreading across the floor. Hux recognised him mostly because of the dog at his heels, a scruffy little thing with one eye, which was barking from behind its master’s legs.

“Listen, man, you can’t-” He was saying, hands raised as if in surrender.

“You left me there to rot in the desert!” Ben yelled.

“No one left you to rot in the desert, Benny! We did a full damn search-”

“Don’t, Dameron!”

The silence was tense, only to be broken by the little white and orange dog padding forward, emboldened now that the shouting had stopped. It whined and dropped down onto its paws, giving Ben an imploring look. 

Ben shot the other man - Dameron - a look full of knives as he dropped warily to one knee to hold a hand out to the dog, before rubbing its ears. 

“Hey, Bee. S’not your fault you’re stuck with this loser.” 

The little dog whuffed happily, before giving his hand a nip at the insult and trotting back to its master. Dameron stared at the creature for a moment, before lowering his hands and stuffing them in his pockets with a sigh. 

“Look, Ben-” He began, but Ben turned his back on him and stalked out of the room before he could continue. 

Hux padded cautiously over to Phasma, who had been watching the proceedings from the safety of the bar.

“What did I miss?” He asked, sliding onto the stool beside her. 

“Apparently, our guide has other friends.” She replied, eyebrows raised. 

“Be still my beating heart.”

Hux took a large swallow of the gin and tonic the bartender had put in front of him. Phasma gave him a look, to which he downed the rest and grimaced before standing. 

“I’ll go.”

She just raised her own glass.

 

\-------------

**Author's Note:**

> Hopefully with more to come, because I couldn't resist...


End file.
